


My Wish

by pekorosu



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon - Manga, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 19:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekorosu/pseuds/pekorosu
Summary: As usual, Ash was forcefully woken up. Or so it seems.English translation ofボクのお願い。by 小葉.





	My Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [ボクのお願い。](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/448556) by 小葉. 



> Permission received from the author to translate and post on AO3. Please do not repost or redistribute elsewhere without permission.

 

 

As usual, Ash was forcefully woken up. Or so it seems.

He’s somehow managed to get himself seated at the dining table without realizing it. No doubt, the line between sleep and wakefulness is extremely fuzzy. And Ash himself doesn’t seem to be aware of just how fuzzy it is.

For now, he has a pair of fork and knife in his hands, ready to slice up the round object right in front of his eyes. A hand appears over his right shoulder, plonking a cup of something black down on the table.

Coffee, it seems.

The owner of that hand goes around the table and takes a seat opposite him. That same hand has now flipped open the newspaper. Its owner, however, doesn’t spare a single glance at the newspaper at all; instead, the figure sets his elbows down on the table, leaning forward a little. He looks straight at Ash and declares, “This is the first time I try making pancake, you know.”

Pancake...

Ash moves his utensils sluggishly in a vague attempt at cutting up the round object. The figure hovering nearby watches him go at it silently for a while before speaking up again.

“...Um. Do you know what you’re doing now?”

That sentence, uttered in a heavily-accented English, stood no chance of registering in Ash’s barely-conscious mind at all. To be fair, it wouldn’t have registered even if it were delivered in the crisp and clear pronunciation of a newscaster.

“You’re holding the food with knife and cutting with fork, you know?”

So? Got a problem with that?

“How about taking a shower first?”

Ash continues to drag his fork haphazardly across the perfectly-round pancake, making a total mess out of it. Then, he stabs a piece with his knife and tries to stuff it into his mouth.

“Watch out, you’ll cut your mouth!” Eiji yelps as he dives across the table to snatch the utensils out of Ash’s hands. Ash starts muttering blearily.

That’s MY pancake…

“After you shower, okay?”

A pair of hands shove themselves under his arms from behind. Just as he’s registered that, Ash feels himself being lifted to his feet.

Pancake...

With his brain still clearly out of commission, Ash is shoved unceremoniously into the bathroom.

 

***

 

Ash steps out of the shower, finally looking fresh and properly awake. His platinum blonde hair is still shining from dampness, which he towels down roughly while padding towards the dining table. He pulls out a chair and sits, muttering a quick thanks to Eiji who hands him the newspaper.

“Pancakes today?”

“I told you so earlier.”

Ash eyes his food suspiciously.

“Did you mess up the flip? This looks like a disaster.”

Eiji glares at him wordlessly.

Ash takes a sip of his coffee and winces. “The coffee’s cold.”

Eiji lets out a huge sigh as though he’s given up on everything. He gets up, presumably to prepare another cup. Ash watches his roommate from the corner of his eyes as he stabs a piece of pancake that’s already cut up into an approximate oval. He picks it up, giving it a good look-over.

Pancakes, huh...

While he’s munching on his mangled breakfast, the strong aroma of coffee wafts over from where Eiji sets it down on the table.

Without preamble, Ash asks, “Hey. Do you know how to make French toast?”

“Huh?”

A puzzled look crosses Eiji’s face.

“Toast... from France?”

“Never mind. Forget it.”

A cloud of warm steam billows from the cup of coffee. Ash takes a sip and starts musing as he’s flipping through the papers.

Being Japanese, Eiji is pretty clueless about most typical American foods. French toast isn’t toast from France, after all. Legend says that it was invented by an innkeeper named French and that’s what he named it. French is of course, an American. Not that most Americans would know that little trivia, but judging by Eiji’s reaction, he probably doesn’t even know the food itself.

It’s fine if he doesn’t know. It was something that Ash had just blurted off the cuff.

Eiji looks strangely preoccupied with it though.

“Hey, is that what you ‘want’? Do you want me to make that for you?”

Hm?

Oh, right.

Ash remembers. There was that bet from yesterday.

Whoever lost at arm wrestling had to do whatever the winner wanted. That was the condition they agreed on, and Ash had won. Truth is, that memory had taken a hike the moment he woke up this morning. Thanks to Eiji, he just got his memory jogged.

To be honest, Ash doesn’t really want anything from Eiji. If he hadn’t mentioned it, chances were, it would have stayed forgotten. It seems he’s a lot more hung up on yesterday than Ash had thought. He’d been so pissed off about it and yet, here he is, bringing it up again. Eiji is amusing like that.

He should’ve kept his mouth shut, Ash thinks, lips twitching into a faint smile.

Did it not occur to him that if Ash didn’t say anything about it, they could pretend that the bet didn’t happen and life would go on as usual? For someone who looks so agreeable, he sure is a sore loser. But then again, he’s also pretty responsible despite the baby-face. And he lives up to the earnestness of the Japanese.

Ash laughs wryly to himself.

I guess I could just get him to make that French toast, Ash considers for a moment. Nah.

“Looks like someone’s an eager beaver.” Ash smirks. “Ready to grant my 3 wishes already?”

Eiji huffs at Ash’s teasing. “Not if you ask me to do something stupid! It’s OK if you don’t want anything!”

Ash toys with the idea in his head as he goes back to munching on his pancake.

What do I want... What do I want...

What do I want from him?

Unfortunately, nothing comes to mind even after he’s done eating.

“I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up,” Ash says, grabbing his jacket with one hand and leaving the apartment.

 

************

 

When he was little, breakfast usually consisted of a thick slice of bread, eggs, bacon and milk.

Once, he had pestered Griffin to make pancakes. For some reason, he made French toast instead.

This isn’t pancakes. I wanted pancakes! Ash had complained petulantly.

Pancakes must be pretty tough to make. Come to think of it, the one that Eiji made turned out to be a disaster too.

Still, he’d fallen in love after just one bite of Griff’s French toast. It was a French toast with lots of maple syrup and powdered sugar.

Griff would let the bread soak in a mixture of eggs and milk overnight, and then fry them up on a Sunday morning. The sound of butter sizzling in the pan and the smell of it melting would fill up the entire kitchen. Ash would run round and round his brother’s legs impatiently, only to be chided. 

_"It’s dangerous, so sit still, okay?”_

Ash would then slink off dejectedly to do as he was told. Not too long after, a fresh stack of French toast would be set down in front of him. And Griff would always ask the same thing.

_“Aslan, how much maple syrup do you want? Say stop when it’s enough, okay?”_

Ummmmmmmmmmmm stop!

_“Is this enough sugar?”_

More!

_“This much?”_

More! Put more!

“That much...”

Until it’s all white!

“If it’s that much, I don’t know if it’s toast anymore or just sugar...”

The French toast that’s heavily drenched in maple syrup would then get covered in sugar until it turned as white as snow. And then Ash would take a big, cheerful bite out of it.

Sweet, sweet French toast. That’s one treasured memory of his loving big brother.

 

“Is it good? Ash?”

It’s sweet...

“Of course it is, if you put so much sugar after so much maple syrup. I think it is way too much, but this is how it’s like, right? You Americans have very extreme taste.”

It’s so sweet that Ash is suddenly wide awake.

There, in front of him, is a half-eaten French toast.

Looks like this isn’t a dream.

This… is the dining table in the fancy apartment that he lives in with Eiji. And sitting right in front of him is the guy himself.

“What the hell.” Ash blanches. “It’s too sweet.”

“What! You need to stop being half asleep always!” Eiji complains. “You’re the one who told me to put this much!”

That wasn’t a dream?

Ash silently finishes up the rest of his French toast.

“People’s taste buds do change over time, huh?” Ash muses.

“Was it good?”

“It was sweet.”

“What...”

“I’m wide awake now. Thanks.”

Ash flashes him the biggest, fakest smile as proof.

“Jeez. I even asked our neighbor for recipe just to make this,” Eiji grumbles. Still able to taste the cloying sweetness clinging to the insides of his mouth, Ash gulps down the rest of his coffee. It’s not enough.

“Eiji. Coffee.”

Eiji glowers at him. Whenever he says this, Eiji would always grumble, “I’m not a coffee.”

But this time, Eiji doesn’t say anything and just keeps glaring. Ash gives in reluctantly.

“...Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

Eiji snatches the mug out of Ash’s grasp and heads towards the kitchen counter. After a few steps, he pauses, turning around to face Ash.

“So, I already finished your request, right?”

“Request? Hey, I didn’t ask you to make French toast.”

“No,” Eiji shakes his head. “Just now, you said ‘Coffee, please.’”

Ash goes still.

“Right?”

 

Speaking of which, during yesterday’s debate on whether French toast was something Ash wanted or not, Eiji had started complaining.

“You’re always asking me to do things all the time so I don’t know which is the real one!”

“I do?”

“Yup.”

“Like what.”

“Eiji, pass me the papers. Eiji, get me a beer. Eiji, the phone’s ringing. Eiji, the towel’s missing. And so on...”

Ash scowled indignantly. Everything that Eiji just said was a hundred percent true so he couldn’t think of a good retort. But that wasn’t the only reason his feathers were ruffled—Eiji had also been doing a mocking impression of him. Unbeknownst to Ash though, that impression remains a big hit among the Lynx gang members.

Seemingly pleased that Ash was rendered speechless, Eiji shrugged his shoulders comically and continued with a grin.

“Alright. So. Next time when you’re going to tell me what you really want, say ‘please’ okay? I’ll listen if you say that.”

 

And now, it seems he’d just said it. The magic word.

A smug smile creeps across Eiji’s lips.

“You can ask for seconds, you know? I’ll pour as many cups as you want!” Eiji says brightly as he resumes his walk to the kitchen counter. For a moment, Ash could only gape at him in shock. Then he lets out a sharp exhale.

Sneaky little shit. Tripping people up like that.

Well, whatever, Ash thinks. He goes back to reading the newspaper. It’s true that he was the one who started the whole “you have to do whatever I want” thing, but his goal at that time had been to poke fun at Eiji. He hadn’t really considered the overall practicality of the plan.

What I want, huh...

Eiji returns to his side with his coffee in hand. “Hey, you said you’re going to library today, right?”

Back then, I did ask him for one thing.

“Ash, are you listening?”

Eiji had agreed without hesitating at all.

“Can I go with you?”

With me…

“You’ll be a pain if I bring you along,” Ash says. “Oh yeah. Do you wanna hear what I want, for real?”

“You already said it just now.”

“That doesn’t count.”

Eiji opens his mouth like he’s about to explode into a rant about how the arm wrestling match from last night doesn’t count either because Ash cheated, but Ash cuts him off quickly.

“Could you wait quietly like a good boy until I’m done reading at the library?”

Eiji’s mouth snaps shut. Ash looks straight into his dark brown eyes and adds sweetly:

“Please?”

Eiji bristles. Getting talked down to like a child seems to have hit a sore spot. After all, he does whine about wanting to leave the library early all the time.

The dishes clink loudly against each other as Eiji, whose foul mood is stamped all over his face, starts clearing the table in a slapdash manner. He’s stomping off in a huff when Ash calls out to him.

“We’re leaving as soon as I’m done with this.” He lifts his mug. “Go get your camera ready.”

“Really?” Eiji exclaims, whipping around.

Of course, Ash knows the real reason Eiji asked. He doesn’t actually want to go to the library; he just wants to take photos of the city along the way, or in Central Park on the way home.

“When we’re at the library, remember—”

“Not to disturb you, right?”

Eiji rolls his eyes. “I get it, Ash, jeez,” he adds with a hint of renewed cheer in his voice as he disappears into the kitchen. It looks like he’s back in good spirits.

Ash lets out a small sigh.

Oh boy. Look who’s the one who got what he wanted?

Soon enough, Eiji is back in the living room, heading towards the windows. He removes the camera from its tripod and checks on its film, before sticking an extra roll in his pocket. He turns to face Ash.

“I’m ready,” Eiji says, lips curving into a smile that’s gentle as always.

Ash sets the coffee and newspaper down on the table and gets up. Together, they head towards the foyer. Eiji’s words from yesterday float through his mind.

_“Is that what you want?”_

What I want is...

“Let’s go.”

The keys jangle in Ash’s palm as he grabs his jacket from the coat hanger and shrugs it on. The two of them step out while Ash holds the door open.

What I truly want is...

The door falls shut behind them. The sound of the lock clicking echoes through the empty foyer. Their footsteps fade away into the elevator hall, before disappearing entirely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _"What, you want me to ask you again to stay with me?”_  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any errors, typos or inaccuracies are my own (although I should mention that any grammatical weirdness in Eiji’s speech is 100% intentional).


End file.
